


Another Hopeful

by WriterWithTheDragonRing



Series: Twigglezone Twinks [1]
Category: Twigglezone
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWithTheDragonRing/pseuds/WriterWithTheDragonRing
Summary: A short story of a young man making it in the entertainment business.
Series: Twigglezone Twinks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986019
Kudos: 1





	Another Hopeful

This is a tale of a young man, a hopeful talent with stars in his eyes, looking to make it big in entertainment. Or rather, this is the story of the theater manager that's meeting him. 

You.

You've been working at this particular theater, The Granville, forever. A relic of the big stage boom of the 1920's, it has seen everything from big Broadway musicals to forgettable vaudeville hasbeens. 

Nowadays, The Granville slogs through the year, featuring amateurs and the rare professional, but never a big name. Over the week, the assistant manager set up a meeting for you with some young talent hoping to perform for Halloween weekend. 

You walk through the old dark wood hallway to your office, passing old sepia toned photographs of the "good old times". 

Sitting on the gross, worn out couch opposite of your desk was a young man. He wore a violet lounge coat, a light pink shirt underneath, tied by a big red bowtie, and a pair of lavender shorts. As expected, his emerald eyes were bright and full of hope, just like every new kid you meet. 

But then your eyes were drawn to the young man's lap, not because his legs were smooth and devoid of hair, but because of what sat on his lap: a grumpy-looking ventriloquist dummy with dark blue clothes and a smoldering cigarette in its hand. 

"Good evening Mr. Manager, sir!" said the polite young man, perking right up at the sight of you. 

"Thanks for coming, umm..." You say, searching the mess on your desk for a note from the assistant manager that you hope has a name.

"Wally! A-and this is Vic." 

As you look up, you lock eyes with the unblinking puppet. 

"Ok listen Wally," you sigh, bracing yourself for the waterworks that inevitably follows bad news. "Halloween is one of our busiest nights. Usual audience is a bunch of teens, and I don't think they'll pay to see a creepy dummy unless it tells jokes."

"W-wait, Vic tells jokes!" Wally insisted, fumbling with the puppet on his knee. "Tell him!" 

"Who has two thumbs, is loved, and can eat peanut butter?" Said the dummy in an exaggerated, gruff voice. What struck you was just how flawlessly Wally made it seem like the dummy was actually talking. 

"Not this loser!" 

Although the joke fell flat, Wally looked at you with a desperate, forced grin. Vic, on the other hand, indifferently lifted the cigarette to his wooden mouth. 

You paused to think about how to break the news. But as the words lifted from your lips, the puppet let out a forceful cough. 

"Listen bud, you're supposed to laugh." Said the dummy. "That's how this whole thing works, I make fun of the kid, you laugh, then you throw money at us." 

Confused, you lifted a finger to interject, but the dummy kept going. 

"Ok, how about this one? Did you know this kid was so nervous about this meeting, not only did he forget to eat, but he forgot his underwear!" 

As he hit the punchline, the dummy grabbed the waistline of Wally's lavender shorts and stretched it taut before letting it snap back. The loud crack was then followed by a quiet whimper.

You notice Wally's dark face was flush with red, his eyes glancing away to avoid yours. A impish grin curled upon the dummy's lips. 

"Oh, you liked that?" The dummy continued, rising up to Wally's face. "This kid's talented, y'know. Do you know what the trick is to throwing your voice? Trick lips." 

As Vic's wooden hand lifted Wally's chin, the dummy gestured for you to approach, and the atmosphere of your office changed. 

As you stood over Wally, Vic appeared over your shoulder. 

"This kid's a real pushover." He said. "I dunno whether or not he's the puppet or I am."

As you looked down on this young man, you gazed into his emerald eyes. Then your eyes wandered down, your hand gently caressed his warm, soft cheeks, the tip of your thumb tracing the shape of his moist lips. Coherent thought, reason, became muddled, and you soon find youself imagining the feeling of his mouth wrapped around your member. 

But then a voice whispered into your ear. 

"Go ahead." Said the dummy. "Think of him as your puppet, a toy, and you're just having a bit of fun."

Just a bit of fun. 

Rational thought went out the window when you felt his warm breath on your penis, as your skin pressed against his lips. Your fingers combed through his hair as you moved your palm to the back of his head. 

"Tell him to do something." Vic suggested. 

On your command, Wally began to run his tongue up the length of your rod. It felt soft, yet firm; moist, with a texture all its own. As his tongue wrapped around the base of your penis, his cheek pressed against your groin.

Without a word, you pulled your hips back before slipping your member through his lips, pressing up against the inside of his cheek. You brush against teeth, then rest upon his tongue. 

As Wally looked up, locking eyes with you, you rest your hands upon his head, then you thrust your penis deep into his throat. 

He grabs your wrists as you continually thrust your hips, his tongue rubbing the underside of your member, hot, moist air rushing past with each push and pull. 

As you move closer, Wally leans further back on the couch. Before long, you find your knees on your couch, and the young man unable to lean any further. 

Pressure builds, your breathing grows erratic, and sensations begin to muddle. You pull out, savoring every sensation as you do. 

The young man gasps, struggling to catch his breath. You could see his erect penis pressing against his shorts. 

"Hey, I have an idea." Vic whispered in your ear. "How about you make him talk. Make him say your name." 

You immediately grab hold of the young man's hips, flipping him over as you tear down his shorts. Unbeknownst to both you and Wally, Vic produced a small tube of lube, squeezing its contents out onto the young man's asshole.

"M-Mr. Manager, wait!" Wally managed to gasp as you pressed the head of your member against him. 

But you didn't want to wait, you're a busy man after all. 

As you thrust deep inside him, Wally would gasp and moan, his fingers digging into the couch. Soon enough, you felt a pressure building inside you again. 

You then rolled onto the couch, pulling the young man onto your lap. For a moment, you pulled his head back closer to you, whispering your name into his ear. As he bounced up and down on your rod, he suddenly perked up. 

He started to laugh, introducing himself to an audience of the mind, as if performing, and moaning your name. 

When you felt the pressure build again, you ignored it, and your hips began to thrust faster into Wally as he bounced on your lap. 

As ecstacy flooded your mind, you felt a release of sensation, and you instinctively pressed Wally's body against yours. He tensed up in your embrace, then he began to squirm and twitch. 

His weak giggling warmed your heart as you gently lifted him off of you. As your cum dribbled from his ass, his own dripped from his testicles. Standing over him, you could see his jacket was wrinkled, his bowtie was coming undone, and his shorts were stretched out. As he lay on the couch, a look of euphoria was sprawled across his face. Reason and reality returned to your mind, the mad delusions and carnal thoughts faded away.

As you gently ran your fingers through his dark hair, you notice that Vic, the dummy, was lying lifelessly on the floor, a tube of lube beside him.

"So..." Wally barely managed to mutter. "Can I perform?"


End file.
